


Empty

by orphan_account



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23837170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "You know I love you, right, Betts?" His voice was carefully blank, but his tone was gentle, low. Barely a grumble. Betty didn't look up. She was afraid to see what his eyes would hold.(Or: in which Betty's getting married. And not to Jughead.)
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	Empty

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: There once was a girl who said, "If I don't own Riverdale, well, let lightning hit me!" And then lightning hit her.  
> I love angst so much. (What? That's it.)

"But V," Betty protests. "It's _Jug_ we're talking about. _Jughead_ who almost cried when I told him I got engaged. _Jug_ who, up until right now, was helping me plan my wedding in the most encouraging manner. _Jughead_ , who was my best friend for over _twenty_ years!"

Veronica shoots a glance at Cheryl. The three are sitting around a round table which every inch of it is covered with photos of wedding dresses, wedding cakes, and various wedding decorations. However, all flamboyant beautifications gone from their minds, all three women's attention are focused on the seemingly normal big yellow pad Veronica is holding, which is marked with big block letters:

**_Invitation List_ **

Cheryl smiles widely at the faintly horrified blonde across the table, and says in her most charming, persuasive voice possible, "Betty, it's your wedding, you're free to invite whoever you want. But, maybe think about inviting Jughead once more—wait," The redhead quickly continues, as a wide-eyed Betty opens her mouth in fervid objection. "I mean, he's our best friend and all, but really, we," she gestures her manicured hand to herself and Veronica, who nods in agreement, frowning. "Don't really think that Jughead's exactly…" Cheryl's brow furrows as she tries to find the right words. "… _hyped up_ about your wedding."

Veronica and Cheryl hold their breaths as Betty drinks this information in. They don't hide their wince as they see the gleam leave from the eyes of their friend. "Oh," Betty says, in a mere whisper. "Are you saying that…" she swallows as if she doesn't want to believe what she's about to say. "That you think…Jughead _doesn't_ want to come…." Betty falters, and a hurt look flashes across her features, making Veronica sympathetically reach over to her.

"Yes," Cheryl confirms softly. "We do think so."

Betty sighs and covers her face with her hands. She rubs it raw tiredly and slumps down in her chair as if she wants to sink in it and disappear forever. "I should've known," she says with a small, sad smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. She is blinking furiously although there are no tears in her eyes—only deep sorrow and fatigue.

She stares straight in the eyes of her two companions. "He was never really over me, was he?"

~.~.~

Betty had invited him anyway.

Maybe it was the part inside her that believed firmly that Jughead Jones, her best friend, and former romantic companion, would stand beside her, for her, at one of the biggest days of her life. Or maybe it was the twisted, selfish, most minuscule part of her that just _wanted_ to see him in one of the seats, watching her with undivided attention as she flowed down the aisle in a beautiful white dress, and maybe smile that intimate, sweet smile of his at her, just one last time. Before she was forever tied to somebody else.

But now, and even then, she had doubts. Some part of her knows that he would never show up. She knows that he wouldn't be paid to see her glow in a dress for someone other than himself. She knows that he would rather be drunk all day than to see her say _I do_ , looking at some other person's eyes than his. She knows that he would rather die than to watch helplessly as she wraps her arms around somebody other than him and presses her lips against theirs.

"Betty honey, are you nervous?" Alice asks tenderly, her fingers lightly touching her daughter's shoulders in a manner that is something between pride and joy. Betty's mother looks stunning in a lavender-colored dress, her golden hair washing over her shoulders in graceful waves. _It has been a long time since my mother has been in a dress_ , Betty notes absently, and stares at both of their reflection in the huge mirror in front of her. "It's okay, it'll be fine." Alice smiles kindly at Betty, her eyes curving into a crescent, her lips stretching genuinely.

_It's okay, it'll be fine…_

_"It's okay, it'll be fine,"_ _Jughead had said before he walked up to the stage in front of_ La Bonne Nuit _to deliver the toast of the pre-wedding party Veronica had arranged for Betty. When Betty gave him a disbelieving look, he grinned, a slight twist of his lips, and said, "Veronica's rules kept me from getting drunk, at least," his fingers, ever so slightly, brushed across her wrist. "I'm not going to embarrass you."_

"It'll be fine," Betty repeats. Her voice sounds foreign. "It'll be fine," she repeats once more, her eyes insistent in the mirror, willing herself to believe what she's saying. The shape of her lips looks wrong. _It'll be fine._

 _Jughead had stared at her the entire time he made that speech. He talked about how he met her and Archie when they were seven. He talked about the three friends' childhood and adolescence. He talked about the Core Four's best moments. However, he didn't talk about their moments together, just the two of them. He didn't mention anything about their relationship. His eyes burning into hers, he licked his lips, a swift stroke of his bottom lip, then swallowed and lifted his glass of_ Perrier _. His voice was thick. "To Betty and Charlie!" The rest of the room followed suit and raised their glasses with cheers also._

"Charlie loves you, dear," Alice continues in her soothing voice, tucking a fallen lock just behind her daughter's left ear. Betty suddenly feels nauseated. She suddenly wants nothing but for her mom to stop talking, even though everything she says is true—or she wants to believe it to be true. She suddenly feels so done with everything, to her wedding, her family, her friendship, to the town of Riverdale. She suddenly wants to stop. Just… _stop_.

" _Where's your fianc_ _é_ _?" Jughead had asked casually, his green eyes searching, his lips glistening from his drink. Betty's smile faltered the slightest bit as she whipped around and found his piercing gaze directed at her. "Veronica stole him for this dance. She's probably doing the last minute threatening. 'Be good to Betty or else' and all that shit, probably." Betty attempted at an amused chuckle, but it came out as a strangled laugh. "So," Jughead said. He was calm, in his usual behavior. Nothing like the high-strung nervous human being that Betty had been around him ever since she'd invited Jughead Jones to her wedding. "Seeing that you don't mind having your fianc_ _é_ _dancing with your best friend, I reckon Charlie would be okay with me stealing you for one last time?" For one last time. Betty wasn't sure if she liked that phrase. At all. Jughead slightly parted his arms, and Betty slid into them like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Of course."_

Betty spies Veronica's face peeking out from the door to the chamber. "Betty?" The brunette gushes. "Oh, wow, you look fabulous!" Betty closes her eyes briefly. Everything sounds wrong. _Fabulous_. Why is she looking fabulous? For what? For _whom_? Veronica's face quickly turns into one of worry. "Betts? You fine?" Betty manages a breathy, shaky laugh. It sounds hysterical. "Yes, just…Last-minute jitters, I guess."

_Betty had tucked her head just beneath his chin like they had done a thousand times in high school, and sometimes in college. He smelled like aftershave and mint like he always had. Jughead hummed, and his neck vibrated against her forehead. His hand slowly dragged down to her waist, igniting sparks inside her that she urged to inexistence. Jughead pulled her close against him. Betty's arms slid up to rest behind his neck. She had always known that they fit perfectly._

Cheryl's red mane flashes before Betty's eyes as she makes her entrance. The redhead's dark eyes flicker between Veronica and Alice. After failing to find whatever clue she was looking for in the two women's faces, Cheryl beams extensively instead and clasps her hands together. Betty's eyes distractedly wander to Cheryl's gloved hands. "Betty dear, it's time for you to shine. You're expected in…" Cheryl glances at her watch. "Three minutes and seventeen secs!" Bile rises to Betty's throat. _What_? She asks herself. _What's the problem? You're going to marry someone who loves you, and whom you love back. You're going to be happy. What's wrong?_

_"You know I love you, right, Betts?" His voice had been carefully blank, but his tone is gentle, low. Barely a grumble. Betty didn't look up. She was afraid to see what his eyes would hold. "Me too." She swallowed. "Good," he mumbled against her hair, and carefully maneuvered her around the dance floor. "I was afraid I wouldn't have the chance to say it ever again." Betty closed her eyes, and concentrated on the feeling of his breath in her hair, his fingers circling the small of her back, his chest moving against hers in heavy breathing._

"Um, you know," Betty says, wringing her hands desperately, eyes suddenly squeezed closed in an unpleasant distressing feeling she's developed. "Guys, I'll meet you outside in just—whatever time that Cheryl just said. Can I," she gasps for air, and she crushes her fists tightly so she won't do anything imprudent out of anxiety. "Be alone? _Please_ ," she whispers when the others don't budge.

 _The song had been over so quickly, unsatisfyingly, leaving her wanting for more. Wanting for him._ No _._ _Before Betty could say another word, Jughead pulled away slightly, as if he was testing his control, and smiled. Tight-lipped and false. "Here comes your fianc_ _é_ _."_

Betty is finally alone in the room; her eyes are wild, her hands wet with anticipation, her face is flushed at one second, pale at the next. She absentmindedly tries to wipe her palms against her dress. And stops at just the right moment. It's not a sheen of sweat that's covering her skin, it's blood.

 _And he had leaned in, quick as lightning, and brushed his lips against her cheekbone. Betty's mouth went dry, and her breath hitched in her throat. She wanted to say something bad, but she couldn't. "_ Goodbye, _" Jughead whispered, his warm breath teasingly lingering on her cheeks. And he melted into the crowd._

Blood dripping out from four crescent-shaped marks on each of her hands. Her wedding had reopened one of her most ancient scars, her darkest moments. Another question pops into her head _._ _Is this really worth it?_

Before she can push the thought away a drop of rich scarlet falls onto the pearly white of her lacy wedding dress.

_She had stared at his gray beanie until it disappeared completely. Her cheek was still warm._

She blinks. She's about as ready as she could ever be. She wipes her palms on the discarded makeup tissues and glides eerily, almost like a ghost, towards the door. To the aisle that would lead up to her would-be-husband.

_The next day Jughead had gone to Canada. He said he'd come in time for the wedding._

Whose name won't be Jughead Jones.

~.~.~

Betty Cooper is beautiful. With her golden hair piled up gracefully on the top of her head, her cheeks rosy and her porcelain neck long and graceful, she swiftly walks down the wedding aisle.

But, her eyes are searching. The blue in her eyes is hazy and jagged. Her breath comes in short tufts of suffocating gasps. Her jaw twitches slightly as she hunts for the seat next to Archie Andrews where a certain lean young man with a gray beanie and the crooked grin that made her fall in love with him would be sitting— _should_ be sitting—

It's empty.

She feels something heavy drop in her stomach, and at the same moment, everything inside lifts out of her.

She slightly shakes her suddenly light head, dazed. Charlie standing at the end of the long walk, looking handsome and charming in his midnight blue suit is now less than a blur. She won't believe it. She can't. Why is that seat empty? Why is everyone else here to celebrate her and not him? Why is he not wishing her good luck for the rest of her life? _What matters then?_

She gazes hard at the seat.

It stays empty.

Oddly, for the rest of the ceremony; when she says I do, when Charlie kisses her, when she cuts the three-layered wedding cake, and a long, long, time after that, so does her heart.

  
  



End file.
